


Make Me

by Angryangryowl



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-13 23:41:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10524372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angryangryowl/pseuds/Angryangryowl
Summary: In which Poe's working practices aren't exactly safe, and Finn would hate to see anything happen to that pretty face





	

**Author's Note:**

> For the anon prompt on tumblr: Stormpilot and 'Why don't you come over here and make me?'

‘They're not really designed for um..that.’ Finn remarks, glancing over to the next workbench where Poe is humming to himself.

His jumpsuit sleeves are knotted about his waist leaving him in a frayed t-shirt smeared with engine grease, standing on tip-toe to reach a loose wing prop on his beloved X-Wing, wrench in one hand and a plasma torch between his teeth.

The torches are old, and whilst originally designed for precision cutting of almost anything, the ignition switches tend to be a little..temperamental.

‘If you slip, that thing’s gonna blow the side of that pretty face off.’ He warns, shaking his head and returning to the ancient, greasy rifles he’s cleaning.

‘You think?’ Poe is slightly muffled by a mouthful of torch, sticking his head out from behind a wing.

‘Sure. Beam’s still powerful enough to cut durasteel like butter.’

‘No, I mean, you think I'm pretty?’ Even around the torch, there's a wicked grin that crinkles the corners of his eyes.

‘Pretty dead, if you carry on. Put it down two minutes?’

‘Why don't you come over here and make me?’

Finn hesitates getting to his feet. Sure, they’re close. They’ve nearly died together enough times, and lived pretty much in each other’s pockets since. But the way Poe says it sounds somewhere between flirting and a dare, and he's no prude, but Finn has no idea which way to interpret this.

Poe holds his hands when the nightmares come, frequently lately. They're both a little too quick to embrace when Poe returns, whooping and giddy with adrenaline, from another successful mission. There's claps on the shoulder, hells, even slaps on the ass for luck when one leaves. Neither minds, and if they do touch, too close, too often, neither comments.

But he's also not that great at backing down. He strides over to Poe, stopping a step or two from where he stands, still grinning, hands on his hips, torch still between his teeth, pleased with himself.

Finn gently unhooks the torch from between his teeth, placing it gently on the work bench at Poe’s elbow. They've stood this close, closer, before, but suddenly breathing is a little difficult. And his eyes are drawn to Poe’s still-wet, smiling lips. The rough stubble of his chin. His kind and crinkled brown eyes. The dare still in every line of his face.

And maybe he's imagining it, but the want there too. The way Poe’s eyes catch on his own mouth as he speaks.

‘Does that count as making you?’

‘I don't know. Technically, I guess.’ He's still smiling, softer now, not so smug.

‘If I..’ He draws a deep breath, he'd take battling ten Sith Lords over this, the hot, sickening nerves twisting in his belly. ‘If I kissed you. That shut you up?’ There's no malice in it.

Poe's lips part.

‘I think so. Maybe you'd better try it..’

Finn places a hand on Poe’s, on his hips, and presses a chaste, soft kiss to his mouth. Poe’s lips are weather-rough and warm.

His arm is loose around Finn’s waist, hopeful that he’ll stay.


End file.
